


Cure the Loneliness

by TheIfInLife



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Exes, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Reality, Rimming, Smut, Tinder, the Tinder AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21810382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIfInLife/pseuds/TheIfInLife
Summary: He gets in a mode where he’s scrolling so fast that he barely has any time to actually look at any of the faces. And then he sees a picture that makes him pause. There’s only one picture and it is mostly dark but he can see enough. He can see a white picture hanging in the background and very faintly on it, he can see in bright pink paint, a mushroom and words that say, “ur a fungi! -H”.For a moment, Harry’s world is rocked. He’s staring at Louis’ tinder profile, that is 100% clear to him. Harry remembers the exact day that he made that painting for Louis. They were still on the X Factor. He panics and just automatically swipes right. It lagged for a moment so that Harry was sure it was a no-match, or at least not yet. And then, boom; the screen blacked and the cursive print told Harry that “It’s a Match!”Or the one where they match on Tinder and it opens a door that they thought had been closed for good.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 192





	Cure the Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Tinder AU that no one asked for. This is the first thing I’ve written in quite awhile so I hope you guys like it!  
> Also, this is currently unbeta’d so I’m sorry if it’s shit.  
> Happy reading!

Harry never imagined that they would break up. When he first met Louis back in 2010, he fell in love nearly instantly and he fell hard. He wasn’t really sure who he was back then but it didn’t matter at the time. He was sixteen and living for the moment. 

Louis fell hard too, everyone knew it, including Harry. But he’s not even sure who, between the two of them, made the first move. Maybe it was him, maybe it was Louis. All he knew was that one minute they were having the time of their lives after they had made it through the first elimination and the next minute, they were in a supply closet upstairs making out. They were official within a week and within a couple months, they lost their virginities together.

Everything was going great, until they were told that a gay boyband wouldn’t sell tickets to fangirls. 

_ Boybands market to girls - girls who dream of being with the boyband. How exactly can we sell to that market with a boyband that’s in a relationship with each other? You’ll be the laughing stock of the music industry and you’ll be lucky if you could call yourselves a one hit wonder band.  _

So in came Eleanor. It was hard but they got through it and got through it and got through it. In came Taylor. Same old song and dance. And then when the fake girlfriends were gone, it sank in that they were not the same Louis and Harry. 

Harry could feel it in his bones, something was missing. They weren’t right for each other anymore. Maybe it was because they had been rushing into everything. Maybe they had felt all the love in the beginning so hard that there was none left to spare. It didn’t make sense and Harry didn’t think it ever would. Louis was supposed to be his soulmate. And the worst happened.

“Haz.” Louis had tears  in his eyes. “I - I…” 

“I know.” Harry smiled through his own tears, one little dimple forming on his face. “You feel it too? How different we are.”

Louis nodded, letting out a choked sob. With his face hidden by his hands, Louis said it. The words they’d been too scared to say for too long. “I think we should break up.”

Harry, now significantly taller than Louis, lifted Louis’ face to look up at him. He mustered the best smile that he could. “Thank you. For everything. It’s … I will always love you.”

Louis rested his hand on Harry’s warm cheek, middle finger pressing into his dimple. “Can I kiss you?...One last time.”

Harry leaned in and kissed Louis with everything that he had. It hurt, like someone was literally ripping his heart out, vein by vein. He could taste the salt from Louis’ tears on his lips. His heart ached knowing that the last thing he would remember Louis tasting like was sadness. 

When the kiss ended, they pulled apart, their lips included.

-

Things are different now. The band is on hiatus, or that’s what they told the fans to keep them at bay. Harry’s got an album out, as do the rest of them. He has gained a lot of confidence in himself over the last few years so much so that wearing bell bottomed floral tuxedos is no big deal. He’s basically come out to the world now that he’s not under the suffocating thumb of Modest! - fucking dicks. He hasn’t said it in so many words but Harry doesn’t really think that he has to and in fact, he doesn’t really want to. It’s his thing to do with it what he will. 

He’s happy. He’s really, truly happy. 

After a wonderful last tour concert in Paris, Harry posts his picture to instagram. As he’s scrolling through his feed, he passes a picture of Louis and his dog. Harry nearly squeals simply because the dog is so curly and adorable. So, of course, he likes it. After getting his fill of social media, Harry turns off his phone and climbs into his bunk on tour bus, completely exhausted. Raindrops, from his favorite sleep playlist start filling the silence and soon he’s off to sleep. 

When Harry wakes up in the morning, he absentmindedly swipes through the fake Tinder he made. The pictures are really him but he got Lou Teasdale to do some fancy makeup shit and he put in contacts. If a fan ever actually calls him out on it, Harry will admit it with a laugh and the world will move on. He’s gotten over embarrassment over being caught in a disguise. Plus, he’s had some really nice conversations with some guys from tinder. It sure as hell beats texting his mum every time that he gets lonely. 

He gets in a mode where he’s scrolling so fast that he barely has any time to actually look at any of the faces. And then he sees a picture that makes him pause. There’s only one picture and it is mostly dark but he can see enough. He can see a white picture hanging in the background and very faintly on it, he can see in bright pink paint, a mushroom and words that say, “ur a fungi! -H”.

For a moment, Harry’s world is rocked. He’s staring at Louis’ tinder profile, that is 100% clear to him. Harry remembers the exact day that he made that painting for Louis. They were still on the X Factor. He panics and just automatically swipes right. It lagged for a moment so that Harry was sure it was a no-match, or at least not yet. And then, boom; the screen blacked and the cursive print told Harry that “It’s a Match!”

Harry does the only thing he can think to do. He calls Niall. It’s been a while since they’ve talked and it’s been even longer since they’ve talked about him and Louis. But as soon as he hears the distinctly Irish voice answer the phone, he knows he made the right call. 

“Niall!” Harry exclaimed happily. “How are you?”

“Good, mate. Just workin’ on me next album.” His accent is thicker which means that he’s either home now or was home recently. 

“That’s great! The last one was incredible! I’m happy for you, Nialler.” Slipping back into old nicknames and old mannerisms comes instantaneously. 

“Thanks! Means a lot. Yours was good too.” 

“Thank you. Hey, listen, I called because...well, are you all played out on listening to me...talk about Louis?” He whispers the name like it’s taboo. 

“Hold on, I definitely need to be sitting for this.” There’s some shuffling noises on the other end and then Niall starts talking. “It’s been a loong time since we talked about  _ him _ .” 

“We matched on Tinder.” Out with it, that’s the route he’s taking with this apparently.

“First of all, I can’t believe you actually have a Tinder.” Niall chuckles. “Second of all, what?!”

“I know,” Harry flops himself back on his bed. “I had Lou fashion me up some … disguises. This sounds entirely dumb I know. So what if he doesn’t know it’s me? Should I even talk to him?”

“How do you even know it’s him, mate?” Niall sounds every bit as skeptical as Harry was afraid he’d be. 

“I know it is. I can see something that I made for him in the background of one of his pictures. It was signed H.”

“Okay, so you’ve matched then.” Niall sighs, sounding as though he’s contemplating. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know!” Harry is pitiful, he’s fully aware. “This is why I called you! Help!”

Niall is silent for what feels like forever. It’s probably only a minute or so but it feels like Harry can literally watch the seconds go by and as each second passes, his heart rate gets that much faster. 

“What do you want from this?” Niall finally says. “Like, in the perfect scenario, how would you have this go?”

“Well,” Harry takes a second to think.

How would he have this go? They’ve been broken up officially since the last concert of their On The Road Again tour, though they had been grasping at straws for a few solid months before that. Was he still in love with Louis? Harry honestly isn’t even sure. But they’re both on Tinder for a reason so maybe they can just cure each other’s loneliness for a while.

“H, you there?” Niall’s voice interrupts his train of thought. 

“Yeah.” He lets out the breath he was holding. “I guess for now what I want is to talk. Maybe just cure our loneliness.”

He bites his lip, anxious as to what Niall will have to say to this. As much time as they’ve spent apart recently, Niall is still one of his best friends and his opinion matters heavily to Harry. He knows Harry better than most people ever will so whatever he has to say will probably have a huge impact on how he proceeds. 

“Okay.” He sounds hesitant. “I just worry that it’ll rehash all the things that you spent so long getting over. Do you think it’ll end badly for you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his hair just to have something to do with his hands. “But I do know that I’m over it enough to be okay no matter what happens.”

Honestly, he isn’t sure if that’s the truth. Everything that Niall has said is probably true - it’ll probably end badly. But it’s not enough to keep him from trying. 

-

Harry decides to let it simmer before he actually messages Louis. So he gives it a day. And then he decides that he’s not going to tell Louis in the first message that he knows who he is. 

So he just settles on the classic joke that he sends all of this tinder matches. 

He sends a gif of a lime and writes:

**Sorry I’m bad at pickup limes.**

He sends the message and then immediately closes out of the app before he can think too much of the situation and send himself into a frenzy. His mind goes a million places all at once - what if he knows? What if this is a joke to him? No, Louis would never do that. What if when he finds out, he thinks that Harry is some sort of crazy stalker ex? Will he think Harry is pathetic? 

What doesn’t cross his mind as a possibility, however, is Louis’ reply coming instantly. He opens the app right away, thankful that no one is here to judge his eagerness.

**That was definitely shit, mate. But you did get a laugh.**

Harry doesn’t even know how he should be feeling or how to respond, really. He just looks down at the message, so clearly something that Louis would say, and smiles. He types out the only thing that he can think to say:

**Well, then I’ve done my job!**

He adds a cute emoji and hits send. This time, he doesn’t close out of the app immediately. Instead, he waits to see if Louis’ll respond quickly again. And his smile widens even further when he sees a message just moments later.

**You have.**

**So, what are you looking for on here?**

Harry takes a moment. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to just be honest and say that he just wants to see where this will go and that, even deeper down, he misses talking to Louis. But instead, he settles on the exact thing that he told Niall. 

**Looking to cure the loneliness. In whatever way I can. You?**

He adds the second part because he’s feeling risky and honestly, this may never go anywhere anyway so why not? He anxiously awaits Louis’ response, nearly resorting to biting his fingernails. 

**Honestly me too. We’re quite the match :)**

And that’s how their messages go for the next couple of days - quick responses, bantering, and shamelessly flirting. It’s almost like no time has passed since that was the reality for them. But then he thinks of how he knows that it’s Louis but Louis doesn’t know it’s him and it just feels...deceitful. So he decides on the third day that he will tell Louis who he is. Part of him is so anxious to do it but there is a bigger part of him that’s more anxious of what might happen if he lets this go on for much longer. 

He decides to send Louis an inside joke of theirs to spark the conversation. It’s the safest choice. 

**God, it’s hotter than watsabi outside today**

_ They were out to dinner with Anne and Robin, just the four of them, and they were planning on revealing their relationship.  _

_ It’s not that Harry thought that it had to be a big ordeal, or that they wouldn’t approve. They knew that Harry was gay. But Louis had insisted that they do it this way - the way a proper gentleman would do it.  _

_ The restaurant they had chosen wasn’t extremely fancy but it was fancy enough that their status as semi famous people would be protected.  _

_ Harry glanced at Louis and slipped their fingers together under the table.  _

_ “Mum, Robin,” Harry smiled at them across the table. “There’s something that I - we, want to tell you.”  _

_ Louis took a sip of his water, probably to distract from how nervous he was. Harry thought it was adorable, watching how nervous Louis was. Obviously, his parents would love them being together. In fact, they probably already knew. But it warmed his heart to see how much Louis actually cared.  _

_ “What do you need to tell us, love?” Anne has asked, looking nervous herself as she glanced between Louis and Harry.  _

_ “Is everyone doing alright over here?” The waiter had impeccable timing, pouncing right when the moment was upon them.  _

_ It was silent. Anne and Robin were still looking at the two of them, apparently too worried to say much.  _

_ “Can I get some watsabi sauce for my chicken?” Louis bursted out.  _

_ “You mean wasabi?” The waiter held back a smile. _

_ Louis has started laughing so contagiously that the scary moment was broken. He got his sauce and they broke the news (which Anne already knew) and everything turned out the way it was supposed to.  _

_ And Harry never let Louis live it down.  _

Harry lets out a tiny laugh at the memory. Louis has never been one to get flustered like that so even to this day, it tugs at some strings in Harry’s heart. 

He hits send and stares at the screen helplessly. It’s so terrifying that he almost wants to just shut his phone off and forget about it for a couple hours. But then again, that wouldn’t really help either considering he knows he’d constantly be thinking about it anyway. 

Louis’ reply comes an hour later. 

**I was wondering when you’d figure out that it was me. I understand if you don’t want to talk now.**

Harry nearly shits himself. So Louis knew it was him too? Literally so many different feelings and thoughts go through his mind. He sends a short response because he’s floored and honestly needs to know. 

**You knew it was me? For how long?**

Harry barely has time to blink after he hits send before a new message is there. 

**The whole time. Your disguises were a bit shit lol and then your first message being a pun definitely gave it away. How long did you know?**

Harry responds with the truth, that he also knew the whole time. His heart is racing. What does it mean for them? What does this mean in general? Will they still talk? Will they pretend this never happened? 

And then his phone is ringing and Louis’ name pops up on his screen. Apparently they are done using Tinder. 

Harry bounds into his kitchen and rummages through his cabinet - he needs to be a little less sober for this. He chugs some vodka, chases it with orange juice and then slides to answer as if none of that happened. 

“‘Ello?” 

“Hey.” Louis’ voice comes through the speaker and it’s like Harry forgets how to even speak for a second. They haven’t really talked other than a text or two in years. “So…”

“So.” Harry slides to a sitting position on his kitchen floor, clutching his drink. He wants to say so many different things but at the same time he has no idea what to say. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Me either,” Louis chuckles, a hint of nervousness coming to the surface. “Would it be weird if...no, nevermind.”

“What?” Harry’s heart is in his throat.

“No, I don’t know.”

“What, Lou?” Harry demands. 

“Well, I was just going to say would it be weird if we continued to ...how did you phrase it… alleviate the loneliness?”

“No.” Harry wastes no time. “That wouldn’t be weird. No weirdness here.” 

Harry takes a burning gulp of vodka. Here we go. 

-

They easily lapse into a rhythm of talking and flirting all the time. Harry pretends it doesn’t send a thrill through his body every time he gets a flirty message from Louis that takes him back to a time when this was their normal. And he supposes that it’s their normal again. He just wishes that he could forget all the complications that happened between that normal and this one. 

Feelings won’t fuck this up. They won’t. Harry imagines his fist physically punching his feelings down into a deep, dark, inaccessible place and somehow that makes him feel better. 

One rainy Wednesday, his phone rings and Louis’ name pops up on his screen. It’s not unusual for them to talk on the phone so Harry quickly swipes to answer. 

“Lou!” Harry smiles. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Haz.” Louis’ voice gives away a smile of his own. Harry can imagine him looking down and exactly how his long, beautiful eyelashes look over his sharp cheekbones. “So, I’m actually going to be in your neck of the woods for the next couple of days. Would you be interested in spending some time together?”

“Yes.” Instantly, Harry sits up straight. “Yes, I would love that!”

“Okay, cool.” Louis sounds just the slightest bit relieved and the fact that Louis was nervous to ask makes Harry’s stomach churn with unknown feelings. 

It’s the unknown feelings that drive Harry to meticulously clean his entire apartment the moment that he gets off the phone with Louis. He even pulls out his cleaning toothbrush to detail as much as he possibly can. Cleaning is kind of his way to channel the anxiety and deal with it. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Louis, no, he does; in fact, there’s some part of him that is probably  _ too  _ excited to see Louis. But instead of focusing on that, he scrubs harder, cleans deeper until the thought is gone from his brain. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the feelings that crash over him when he opens the door and sees Louis standing there several hours later. 

He’s got this new haircut that really just suits him well. His beard has grown just a bit more scruffy and he looks so, so much happier. When he meets Louis’ eyes, he sees everything there. His piercing blue eyes remain unchanged, even after all these years. 

“You gonna let me in or are you just gonna stare at me all night?” Louis smiles and Harry has to remind himself that feelings are bad. He swallows, almost like he’s hitting a reset button and steps aside to let Louis in. 

“I’m probably going to stare at you all night either way.” Harry shrugs it off, but he’s damn proud when Louis laughs. 

“You’re probably right, mate.” Louis looks around, probably noticing how different his house looks from the last time that Louis saw it. 

“Sorry, it's a mess,” he feels compelled to say, even though he just spent copious amounts of time deep cleaning, and he would bet a lot of money that Louis’ house is messier than his by far. 

“Harold.” Louis rolls his eyes. “I really like what you’ve done. It’s very...you.”

“Thanks.” He focuses on slowly locking the door because it’s the last thing that he has to do with his hands and then he won’t know what to do. The lock clicks over and it’s like the sound echoes through the house. It’s quiet and when Harry’s eyes meet Louis’, Harry has to bite his lip. 

“So…” Louis breaks eye contact and holds up a bottle of wine that Harry didn’t even realize he had. “I brought some wine. I hope that’s okay, I just figured I’d bring something.”

“Oh,” Harry takes the bottle from Louis, letting their hands brush for the slightest moment. “That’s so thoughtful of you. Let me put this in the fridge.”

When he returns, he finds Louis in the exact same spot that he left him. He’s got his hands in his pockets, shoulders looking tight. 

“Hey,” Harry whispers, watching Louis closely. “We were once best friends, this doesn’t have to be weird. I know you. Let’s just, hang out, without all the past shit getting in the way.”

“Okay.” Louis visibly loosens up. “You’re right. So, what do you want to do? We could watch a movie or something.”

“Movie’s good. Have you seen the new It?” Harry’s already walking over to pick up his remote, letting Louis follow him. It feels good to know that, at least for the most part, the tension is broken between them. 

“No. Harry, you hate scary movies.” Louis side-eyes him suspiciously. “Or have you gone and grown up on me?”

Harry settles on the couch, patting the spot next to him. “Oh, I’m still just as scared but...I kinda like that now?”

“Hm.” Louis plops down with this look in his eye. Harry looks away, focusing on playing the movie. 

The whole scene would probably make their old band mates laugh. It feels very calculated. There’s a polite amount of distance between them. It’s like Harry can feel both of them concentrating on not making it weird. 

But of course, the first jump scare of the film has Harry nearly bumping into Louis’ lap. And then they just stay close. 

He can feel Louis’ eyes on him, though. The moment is so intense, yet so calm it almost feels tangible. When Louis adjusts and his thumb just  _ barely  _ grazes against Harry’s thigh and he just knows. He knows that it means more than just a simple brush of contact. 

Somewhere between hiding into Louis during the scary parts and laughing it off when they both jump, Harry makes the first move. He gets the vibes from Louis fully, though, before gulping and going for it. 

Kissing Louis again, it’s everything. Right from the start, he can tell in himself that feelings are there. He knows that they’re there and he knows how dangerous this is - how bad it’s going to be in the end. But he doesn’t care. Instead, he focuses on the physical feeling of Louis’ lips against his. 

Louis’ lips travel down Harry’s neck with a familiarity that causes Harry to swallow harshly. Louis notices.

“Is this okay?” Louis pulls back so that they can make eye contact. 

“Yeah.” Harry means it. It is okay. “This is so okay...but we probably should at least talk about it.”

Louis clears his throat and sits back completely. “You’re probably right. Always the smart one, you are.”

“Okay, Yoda.” Harry rolls his eyes and laughs just a bit. “But yeah. What, um, what are you looking for?”

“Well,” Louis pulls his fingers through his hair, looking at Bill Skarsgård on the screen for a moment. When he looks back, he looks Harry dead in the eye. “I really liked that saying you had - curing the loneliness l - ”

“God, I’m never gonna live that down.” Harry laughs. “But continue, sorry.”

“I’m not looking for a relationship.” Louis doesn’t waiver. 

Harry’s stomach blooms with red flags. He’s already had feelings before any of this even happened. He thinks back to when Louis called him the smart one and he almost laughs out loud because he is damn stupid. Stupid, because even through all of this, he leaves his face emotionless as he says,

“Yeah, me either.” It’s a lie and Louis used to be able to tell when Harry was lying but unfortunately he has gotten good at hiding things. 

“Okay,” Louis is visibly relieved. “So, what if we just...try this once and then kinda go from there?”

“You mean, like, friends with benefits?” 

“If that’s what you want.” Louis shrugs, seeming as though he’s being completely genuine. 

“That sounds good to me.” Harry shrugs, stuffing away all the reasons why this is an enormously bad idea and focusing on the positives, namely his dick being partially hard and Louis doing something about that. 

“So...shall we?” Louis smiles politely. It’s all business. 

Harry nods, once again initiating the kiss. 

Harry lays back, Louis following so that he’s laying between Harry’s legs. 

It feels so natural between them, like not a moment has passed. Yet, there’s the undeniable feeling of this entire things just being sort of mechanical. Like they are machines, just functioning. 

All those thoughts fly out the window when Louis grinds down so that he can feel how hard Louis is. He closes his eyes, letting himself feel good. His fingers run through Louis’ hair, reminded again of his new haircut. Maybe it’s dumb, but it turns Harry on even more. 

He feels Louis’ hands roam, squeezing lightly at his hips and then letting his fingers inch underneath the cotton of Harry’s shirt. Harry leans up, breaking their contact momentarily so he can take his shirt off and toss it carelessly on the floor. Louis is quick to do the same and then they are back to kissing intensely. 

Louis starts kissing down his chest and it causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach and goosebumps spread on his skin. He kisses over each swallow on Harry’s chest and Harry does not read into it. He doesn’t. Instead, he focuses on the sensation of Louis’ lips closing around his nipple, sucking with just enough force that it causes Harry to whimper. 

Harry has to reach down and grip at Louis’ bum, try to remember to make this good for him too. His fingers trace the waistband of Louis’ jeans around to the front. Concentrating on kissing Louis and unbuttoning his pants is hard; in fact, Louis pulls back, this look on his face that makes Harry blush just the tiniest face. Harry gets Louis’ pants undone and then smiles triumphantly up at Louis.

“Some things never change.” Louis chuckles.

“Hey!” Harry frowns.

Louis looks like he’s about to retort something sarcastic or sassy but that look is wiped clean when Harry squeezes him through his boxers. Harry smiles triumphantly and then finds Louis’ lips again. Harry’s hand finds its way inside Louis’ boxers and properly grips Louis, loving the way that Louis crumples just a little bit. 

He slowly jerks him off, just leisurely for a few moments, making sure that Louis is fully hard and then he takes his hand back. He pushes at Louis’ jeans until he gets the hint and stands up to fully take his pants off. Harry figures that this is as good a time as any, so he also gets up to take the rest of his clothes off.

And then they are standing there, fully naked and exposed. He’s seen this Louis so many times. Yet this feeling of newness, of unfamiliarity settles. This is a different Louis. And that’s okay, he’s just got to learn this new Louis like he did the old one. 

He steps to Louis, leaning down to kiss him and taking a bit more of the control. He backs Louis up against the couch, pushing him down gently, so that he’s sitting on the couch. The way that Louis looks up at him, it sends a chill down Harry’s spine. He’s so beautiful. Their eyes are locked as Harry drops to his knees and he sees the exact moment that Louis realizes what Harry’s intentions are. 

His fingers trace from Louis’ knees up his thighs. He pushes Louis’ thighs apart, settling between them. He takes Louis’ cock in his hand, making a show of licking from the base to the tip. Louis lets out a breath that Harry knows means he’s enjoying it. 

Harry takes Louis fully into his mouth, ready to blow Louis’ mind. It’s not that he has to prove himself to Louis. They’ve obviously slept together before countless times and Louis knows what it’s like to go to bed with Harry. But he still feels this weird pressure to perform. 

He takes Louis down as far as he can, hollowing out his cheeks the way that he knows that Louis likes. Louis lets out an even harsher breath than before which drives Harry on further. He starts bobbing his head in earnest, listening to every sound that Louis makes. One of his hands leave Louis’ cock to gently squeeze at Louis’ balls. 

As soon as he does this, Louis is pulling Harry off of his cock. 

“I’m gonna come way too quick.” The tips of Louis’ ears turn pink as he says this, giving away that he’s embarrassed. “It’s been...quite awhile since, you know.”

“Me too.” Harry comforts, kissing him to let him know that it’s okay. 

“You still like rimming?” Louis asks so casually, like it doesn’t make the pit of Harry stomach turn into knots in the best way. 

“Yes.” Harry can’t even hide how excited he is. 

They switch places, Harry on his knees on the couch with Louis kneeling behind him. 

Louis spends a couple seconds kissing over Harry’s cheeks which he knows drives Harry wild. When he finally spreads Harry’s cheeks apart, Harry is practically shaking with anticipation. 

The first touch of Louis’ tongue is like a breath of fresh air. It’s like Harry’s been under water and he’s finally broken through the surface and his lungs fill with air for the first time. He knows that he makes a weird sound but he doesn’t really care. 

Louis starts out slow, tracing his rim at a torturous pace. But then all the sudden, he speeds up. He’s getting saliva everywhere and Harry feels so wet. He feels his toes clenching and unclenching with how good it feels. 

“F-uck,” Harry’s moans are partially drowned out by the way his face is half smashed in the couch cushion but he knows that Louis can hear him. 

There’s something about rimming that just gets under Harry’s skin. He turns into a whimpering and moaning mess, right there on the edge so quickly. 

On one particularly good swipe of Louis’ tongue, Harry cries out loudly, his body starting to shake. He knows that if this continues much longer, he will most definitely come before they can do anything else. 

“Louis, I’m gonna come.” Harry warns, but he makes no move to stop. It’s nearly impossible for Harry to have restraint when it comes to rimming. 

“Do you wanna come?” Louis pulls away to ask. 

“Not yet.” Harry pouts because he doesn’t want it to be over yet. 

Louis hums in agreement, kissing up Harry’s back. Every knob in his spine, he kisses him there. When he gets up to Harry’s neck, he sucks harshly. Harry knows that there will be a spot there tomorrow and though he’d never admit it, he loves that shit. He may go out tomorrow just so that people see it and know. 

When Louis gets to Harry’s ear, he whispers low, breath tickling. 

“Turn over.” 

Harry bites his lip, so fucking ready. He does as Louis said. He watches Louis lean back over him and it feels so unexplainable. 

“You still have lube and stuff in the same spot?” Louis asks, already reaching to the middle drawer in the coffee table. 

“Yep.” Harry giggles lightly. “I’m a creature of habit.”

“I know.” Louis smiles at him, leaving the lube and condom next to Harry’s head. 

They kiss heatedly for a few lost moments. It’s like they’re meeting back in the middle, touching base again. When Louis pulls back again, their lips separating make a loud smacking noise that causes both of them to laugh. 

Louis spreads Harry’s legs farther apart and then grabs the lube. Harry feels like he’s on cloud nine honestly. He leans up on his elbows so he can watch everything that’s about to unfold. 

Louis pours a significant amount of lube on his fingers, spreading it around so that everything is coated well and then he throws it to the side carelessly. Harry makes a mental note of where it landed because he knows that if he doesn’t, Louis won’t remember where it is when he needs it to coat his dick. 

Slowly,  _ slowly  _ Louis pushes in his first finger. Harry has to close his eyes then, sinking into the feeling of Louis fingering him, after all this time. 

It feels almost too much, too much anticipation waiting for Louis to really pick up the pace. He spends so much time just opening Harry up with the one finger that Harry feels like he’s on the edge again. 

“Lou,” Harry moans, “do three. At once. Please.”

Louis looks dubious but does as Harry asked anyway. Feeling three of Louis’ fingers sink into him burns but it’s a feeling that causes Harry to grip Louis’ bicep and moan, low and primal. 

Under his grip, Harry can feel Louis’ bicep flexing with each thrust of his fingers. 

“Yes,” Harry breathes out as Louis increases the speed. 

He feels Louis curl his fingers and it’s like no time as passed. He still knows the map of Harry’s body. He finds Harry’s prostate almost immediately. 

Harry gets louder, feeling the zing of pleasure with every single brush of Louis’ fingers against his prostate. Just as Harry is about to ask for Louis to fuck him, Louis pulls his fingers away. 

For a moment, Harry watches with a smile as Louis shuffles around looking for the lube. Eventually, though, he grabs it and tosses it to a Louis with a smug look on his face. 

“Some things never change.” Harry says, probably a smidge too flirty. 

“Fuck off.” Louis says, not an ounce of negativity in his voice. 

He rolls the condom on and spreads almost too much lube on himself. He tosses the lube again, wipes his hand off, and then lines himself up with Harry’s hole. 

Harry’s legs twitch when he pushes through the ring of muscle. 

They both moan at the feeling. Harry’s eyes drift closed, once again letting himself soak up the feeling. He feels every inch, biting his lip when Louis is fully bottomed out. There’s a moment where everything between them is still. In that moment, the feelings break through the surface again. For just that one moment, he lets himself feel it; he lets himself imagine that this is more - that they’re in love. But he opens his eyes and closes his heart. This isn’t love, not anymore and never again. 

Louis starts thrusting in slow, calculated movements. Harry lets out a tiny breath with every one. It feels so, so good so he’s not gonna try to hide any noise. 

All the sudden, Louis picks up the pace and Harry has to grip the side of the couch just to hold onto something. 

The sounds of sex are loud in the room. The sound of skin on skin echoes in the room which honestly turns Harry on even more. He closes his eyes again, just listening and just feeling physically. 

Louis pulls Harry’s legs up so that they are pressed against his chest and the angle change causes him to hit Harry’s prostate every single time. 

“Fu-uck,” Harry whimpers. It’s so good, so achingly good. He just has to pull Louis closer to him to kiss him. Honestly, he needs the distraction so he can focus on something other can coming right then. 

He wraps his arms around Louis, needing the closeness. Needing him. 

Louis sneaks a hand between them, gripping Harry’s cock. He moans loudly at the double stimulation. He can feel it coming.

“Lou,” Harry gets flushed all of the sudden, almost going shy. 

“I know.” Louis responds by jerking Harry off harder which causes his rhythm to go a little off but that’s okay because it only takes a few more seconds before Harry’s entire body clenches up and he’s shooting between them. 

Louis’ orgasm isn’t too far off. He’s shooting into the condom with a couple explicit words just a few moments later. 

And then they both clean up and get dressed like it’s no big deal. Because it’s not. It’s really not. 

-

They easily transition into friends with benefits after that. It’s almost scary how easy it is for Harry to just take a step away from his feelings every time. Each time though, he allows himself one moment of pretending that it’s something it’s not. And occasionally, he’ll get back on tinder just to talk to some random people as a sort of distraction, a way of keeping his emotional distance. 

It’s nice, though, having someone. Even if it’s not how he wants Louis, even if he can’t have all of him. It’s nice to have someone to have some semblance of intimacy with. And it’s weird but it’s nice that it’s different than they were before. Part of him was so worried that their past would fuck this up. But it’s oddly nice to have this new experience with him. Or, that’s what Harry keeps telling himself, but he hasn’t fully convinced himself yet. 

-

“So,” Liam is sitting across from Harry at a very low key bar in Wolverhampton. “How are things?”

Harry smiles brightly. “Things are great. I’m working on album two at the moment and it’s been amazing. It’s a totally different vibe than my first album because I really wanted to challenge myself and grow musically, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s great, man.” Liam nods, giving him this look like he’s not fully convinced or something.

“What?” Harry asks, mindlessly digging into the bowl of peanuts even though they both know he’s not a fan of nuts. 

“I was talking to Niall the other day and he had some  _ interesting  _ information.” He raises an eyebrow at Harry without saying another word, like he’s just waiting on Harry to explain. 

“Oh.” Harry makes a mental note to give Niall shit later. “Yeah, Louis and I have kind of...been back on good terms.”

“Really good terms from what I’ve heard.” Liam says offhandedly, taking a long swig of his drink. 

“Stop!” Harry laughs loudly. “But yes, the terms are good.”

“That’s why the paps have caught several hickeys on you. The fans are going wild.” Liam shakes his head. “They do talk some shit, don’t they?”

“They do.” He agrees, poking at the ice in his drink with his straw. “But you know, they were right more than they got credit for, that is for sure.”

“Honestly, mate.” Liam chuckles. “Anyone with eyes could have seen how much you loved Louis.”

“Yeah.” He can’t think of anything else to say to that. What else is there to say?

“I see it there now.” He says this so quietly that Harry almost convinces himself that it didn’t even happen. 

Harry doesn’t respond to that. Avoidance is the key, he’s learned. So instead of talking about it, he changes the subject. And if Liam brings it up again, he’ll claim he didn’t hear it.

“So, how is Bear?”

“He’s doing great. He’s getting so big. I’ve got to bring him the next time that we meet up - he’s been missing his uncles.”

Liam forgets anything that he said about Louis and Harry then. People with kids are great like that; all you have to do is bring up their kids and they can talk for hours. It pulls at Harry’s heartstrings seeing Liam like this, though. Seeing him and remembering the small kid that he was back in 2010 and how he is now, a dad who fiercely loves his son. It’s amazing. Harry lets his mind drift for just a second. 

_ She looks just like Louis, that’s the first thing that Harry thinks when he sees her, their daughter. She’s even more the love of his life and new feelings of love and protectiveness wash over Harry as he holds her close.  _

_ “Hey, babe.” Louis walks into the room, holding their son in a piggy back. He’s got a dimple in one cheek as he smiles at his new baby sister.  _

_ The look on Louis’ face when he sees their daughter nearly brings Harry to tears. This is it, he thinks, this is happiness. _

“Harry?” Liam snaps Harry’s attention back to reality. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” Harry shakes his head. “What did you say? I’m sorry.”

“I asked if you wanted another drink.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry swallows thickly. “I definitely need another drink.”

-

The next week, Harry and Louis are in a hotel room in Yorkshire. They decided to go somewhere that they have less of a chance of getting caught going to the same hotel. Even still, though, Harry would not be surprised if he saw fans and tabloids going crazy tomorrow. But, as he does with most things, he pushes that away. That’s a problem for him to worry about later. 

Literal minutes after they’ve settled into the room, Harry is on his knees in front of Louis. Sucking off his partner is something that Harry has always been passionate about. It may be a little bit weird but Harry enjoys pleasing. He enjoys knowing that he’s the reason that his partner - that Louis - is making noises and enjoying things. 

So, he’s on his knees in front of Louis with Louis’ pants around his ankles on the ground. Harry keeps one hand on Louis’ thigh, partially for balance but also because he enjoys feeling Louis’ thighs tighten and twitch every now and again.

His cheeks are hollowed out as he takes Louis down until his lips meet the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Louis slips down his throat and he swallows carefully around him.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes. 

Harry glances up and their eyes meet. It’s so fucking hot, honestly. Louis’ eyes are this icy shade of blue that sends a thrill of fire and ice through Harry’s veins. He palms himself through his jeans because he has to. Seeing Louis like this drives Harry positively wild. 

The hand resting on Louis’ thigh grips the base of Louis’ cock briefly, to steady himself enough to focus on the head just a little bit. His tongue traces the underside of his head, swirling around the sensitive parts there. He tastes the precome that blurts out as Louis’ nails dig into Harry’s scalp. He lets out this breathy moan that lets Harry know that he’s close to the edge. 

Harry lets his hand slip from his base to go down and gently grip at Louis’ balls. Louis’ head drops back and their eye contact is broken which gives Harry a renewed sense of determination to finish him. He doubles his efforts, bobbing his head relentlessly, cheeks hollowed tight. Harry feels the muscles in Louis’ thigh tense as Louis lets out a stuttered breath and he fills his mouth. Harry swallows it all and stands up to kiss Louis. 

“Love tasting myself on your lips,” Louis whispers when they pull apart. 

Harry bites his lip, almost ready to explode with how turned on he is. Louis steps out of the part of his pants that were still around his ankles and slowly starts undressing Harry. He has to gulp and close his eyes for just a moment and remind himself that he’s the only one making this moment feel intimate beyond the physical nature. 

When Harry is completely naked, Louis guides him to the bed, pushing him gently on the bed on his back. He crawls over Harry, and kisses him. He lets his lips slowly glide over the skin on his neck, then his stomach. Harry can feel Louis’ breath on his skin, causing goosebumps to erupt there. 

It feels like an eternity before Louis finally gets his mouth around Harry. Immediately he knows this isn’t going to last long - he was already on edge earlier. 

Harry looks down to watch Louis and he realizes instantly that that is a mistake if he wants to last. 

Louis’ pretty blue eyes looking up at him through his long eyelashes, and jesus, the sight of Louis’ sharp cheekbones is incredible when his cheeks are hollowed around Harry’s cock. 

Harry reaches down to where Louis’ hand is resting on the bed and he grips it, letting his fingernails dig in probably a little too hard. If Louis calls him on it, he’ll just say it was a heat of the moment sex thing, but honestly, he wants nothing more than to just hold his hand. 

Harry’s heart nearly stops when Louis’ thumb brushes over his hand in an almost comforting motion. Harry gasps and suddenly Louis’ hand is gone. Before he has too much time to worry about some sort of boundary being crossed, Louis’ fingers are prodding at his lips. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _

Harry gets his fingers wet with saliva and spreads his legs. He’s honestly barely keeping it together at this point. 

Louis touches his rim lightly, still not stopping the bobbing of his head. Harry lets out a loud, long gasp as Louis’ two fingers slowly but steadily enter him. 

The pleasure is bubbling beneath the surface, so much so that Harry can barely breathe through it. 

“Not,” Harry has to stop for a second to gasp and swallow thickly. “Not gonna last.” 

Louis pulls off of his dick just to say, “Come then.”

And he presses unrelentingly against Harry’s prostate as he hollows his cheeks, paying special attention to the head. 

Harry starts thrashing and whimpering so loudly that he knows whoever has a room anywhere near theirs can hear them. 

He glances down at Louis again and that’s the breaking point. His orgasm hits him  _ hard.  _ He nearly shouts as he comes, not able to bring himself to watch Louis swallow it all. 

He’s jelly after that orgasm, so much so that Louis has to help him get under the covers. He doesn’t read into that at all. He doesn’t. And he doesn’t dream of Louis when he takes a post-sex nap even though he’s literally two feet away. 

-

It goes on like that for months. Harry’s okay, he is. Except he’s not. Every night before going to bed, he lets himself think of what it’d be like if they took that leap again. 

He imagines their wedding the most, like he used to before they broke up. Only this time it’s different because the distance and pain made them grow into stronger individuals and an even stronger team. And for some reason, his mind always floats to what their first dance would be like. 

_ The first few notes of Shania Twain’s Still the One float through the air as Louis holds his hand out to guide Harry to the dance floor. Harry smiles with his heart first, then his lips. He takes Louis’ hand, feeling the strong grip there. He holds tightly. It feels symbolic, like them both holding each other’s hands tightly means that they’re both as deeply rooted in each other as the other.  _

_ When they get to the middle of the dancefloor, the moment their eyes lock, it’s like the rest of the world fades away. Neither of them like dancing in front of people, but Louis was the most nervous about it. But now, as they move, holding each other steady, it’s like no one else exists except the two of them.  _

_ Louis’ eyes are a window to his soul and Harry sees everything there. There are no walls, just Louis. He’s looking at Harry like he’s the whole world. Harry looks back, for once not shying away. Not this time. This time, he’s letting all the feelings that he spent so long keeping locked away float freely between them. He looks back at Louis, hoping that he can see every wall he’s ever had breaking down. With every note that echoes in the dimly lit room, another brick falls away. Every reason to keep people out - to keep himself guarded - is slowly being erased. All the hurt and brokenness that led up to this is being washed over with love like a gentle, rhythmic tide washes over the shore.  _

_ He used to be just a boy who was too damaged to process his feelings in a healthy way and now, here he is, finally letting himself be mended.  _

_ A tear slips down his cheek, like he’s finally letting all those toxic, anti-vulnerability behaviors go with the tear as it falls down his cheek.  _

_ Louis smiles at Harry. He gently brushes the tear away and kisses him softly. Louis is his peace. When they pull apart, Harry rests his head on Louis’ shoulder. He can hear Louis humming along to the song and he has to just close his eyes and soak it in. He lets himself feel every single moment.  _

Harry rolls over and checks the time, 3:46 am. He should be sleeping. But all he can think about is how awry his life has gone. Yeah, sure, there are parts of his life that he  _ knows  _ he’s been blessed with. The fact that he made it, truly made it, in a career that rarely anyone does - it’s a miracle. He looks around at his empty, dark room. What good are miracles if you have no one to share it with?

He sighs, just knowing that he won’t get much sleep. His eyes are literally begging him to shut and go back to sleep, but his mind makes that impossible. Every time he closes his eyes, he pictures his nonexistent future with Louis and for some reason, tonight that hurts him more than anything. 

Maybe it’s because he spends so much of his day pretending. He’s gotten so good at it, that most of the time he’s convinced himself. But at night, after the happily ever after, he’s brought back to the cold reality that he’s alone. 

He thinks of Louis finding someone else. How he’ll have to smile like the stretch of his lips doesn’t feel like glass ripping through his skin, and he’ll have to be happy for him like every word doesn’t feel like lava coming from his burning heart. He’ll have to look at this new partner, recognizing the unashamed glint in their eyes as they look at Louis as if Harry hadn’t spent the last few months trying not to have that glint too. 

He knew it was going to hurt when he felt Louis start pulling away but he didn’t know that it would hurt this much. Deep down, he knows that none of this is Louis’ fault. This is what Harry agreed to. They clearly discussed the terms of their ‘relationship’ or lack thereof. At the same time, he can’t help but feel used. Like he’s just some warm hole, a filler even, until Louis can find someone better. A stand in, that Louis can use until he trades him in, like he’s trading in an old phone for a new and improved model. All he is is just an orgasm that happens to also be a human being. 

Louis is the only person that Harry has ever non-platonically loved. What does that say about him that even that person doesn’t want him? What is it about him that’s unlovable? And how is Louis so easily able to think of him only as a sexual thing and not remember the person he is outside of the bedroom. Why is that person not enough? 

Harry takes a drink of water from his water bottle to try to clear away the dryness. When he rolls back over, he mentally apologizes to Louis. The reality is that Louis isn’t the bad person here and Harry isn’t a victim. Louis has been honest and Harry can’t fault him for that; in fact, Harry is the only person at fault here. He went into this knowing that the short-lived physical satisfaction wasn’t going to be worth the emotional toll it would take on him. And he did it anyway. What a fucking dumbass. 

Harry treads to the bathroom and filters through his cabinets until he finds the melatonin he keeps for occasions like this. He used to have to take it to be able to sleep after performing on tour and now, here he is taking it so he can sleep after performing the role of unattached. 

After emotionally exhausting himself and the melatonin kicks in, he sleeps like a rock. And then he wakes up in the morning and pretends that nothing even happened. 

-

They’re in the kitchen after a drunken hook up. Harry is sitting on the floor, cradling the bottle of wine that Louis brought over so many months ago. 

Louis is standing by the fridge, his stability waivering just enough to let Harry know that he’s drunk too. 

“I’ll know it,” Louis says. 

“Hm?” Harry looks up from the wine bottle. He had been busy paying attention to the bottle because he’s actually more aware of his feelings when he’s drunk so he can’t focus on Louis too much or he’s afraid that Louis will see through him. 

“When I find someone I really click with, I’ll know.” Louis doesn’t meet his eyes. Probably because he knows. 

Harry mutters a one word response. There he is, drunk on his kitchen floor, with the evidence of Louis still between his legs, hugging a bottle. He can’t help but wonder why Louis doesn’t feel that with him. 

“I hope we both find that someone.” Harry says into the silence between them. He had to say something, to cover his pain with words. 

Yet, he selfishly hopes that that someone won’t come. But then he inwardly reprimands himself. It’s not fair for him to not want Louis to be happy. At the end of the day, if Louis finds someone that makes him happy, Harry will be happy for him. That just comes with the weight of pain too. 

-

It’s just a few months before the one year mark of their friends with benefits relationship when Niall sits him down for a talk. 

Niall has just released his second album and he’s hosting a launch party. Unfortunately, Louis is in L.A. doing some promo for his own upcoming album launch. Harry is also a few days away from releasing another single for his next album. All of that seems irrelevant though. It’s like the only thing he can think about is this snowball of hurt that lives in him now. He can put that shit away for Niall though. He is genuinely happy for the lad, having already bought and listened to his album extensively. 

He’s currently nursing his second drink, barely even feeling the alcohol in his system. Niall comes crashing towards him, fully plastered already. 

“Nialler,” Harry smiles at him. 

Niall throws his arm around Harry’s shoulders like he’s giving him a side hug, but Harry actually ends up supporting most of his weight. 

“Are ya having a good time?” He asks, his drunk-pink cheeks burning through Harry’s shirt. 

“A blast.” Harry says, helping Niall into a booth so he can sit. “You should be incredibly proud.”

“I am.” Niall takes a drink of Harry’s water. “We really made it, huh?”

“We did.”

It’s crazy how even now, years later, when he’s with his boys and they take a look at their lives, they are connected. Even Zayn. Nothing and no one can ever take that feeling of achieving their dreams together away from them. 

“‘Arry, the lad over there has eyes for you.”

“What?” Harry glances behind himself, completely forgoing any semblance of discretion. 

He wants to deny it. He wants to tell Niall that he’s just drunk. But he actually makes eye contact with the guy and the guy, also visibly drunk, winks at him. 

“Oh.” Harry turns around quickly. 

“Well go talk tuh him!” Niall looks exasperated. 

“No, I think I’d rather not.” 

“Why not? You’re single, right? He’s cute. He’s one of the writers that helped me write me album. He’s talented.” 

“Well..” Harry’s thinking of the best way to say it. 

He can’t exactly say that he has no intention of getting with anyone else. Just on the off chance that Louis will come around and admit he wants something more with Harry. It’s pathetic, Harry is fully aware. 

“Well?” Niall drunkenly demands. 

“I just, don’t really want a relationship right now.” It’s a lie and they both know it. Niall, being who he is, calls Harry on it. 

“That’s bullshit.” Niall drinks some more water before he continues. “You can’t wait fer him forever. I know you’re not asking fer my opinion but I think you need tuh find someone else.” 

And then someone else is stealing Niall away with an offer of buying him a congratulatory drink. Harry watches him go and swallows thickly. Maybe it has reached the point of no return if he can’t even talk to some other guy without this nagging feeling that he’s cheating. And the fact that Niall felt inclined to discuss this at his own album launch party. 

Suddenly, Harry feels like Niall is right. He can’t wait forever. And, maybe the most important factor, it won’t hurt as much if he’s the one who breaks this off.

-

So after that day, Harry starts actively looking again. He puts himself back on the market. If he’s being honest, there’s still a part of him that feels like he’s doing something wrong. But, like he’s accustomed to, he ignores that. 

There’s a guy at the studio who Harry has always thought was kind of attractive. He’s got these blue eyes and high tone. It’s kind of shocking how easy it is to get his number. 

Fans freak out when they follow each other on Twitter but of course, Harry doesn’t comment on it. 

He and Louis continue to hook up and even though Harry has brought this up to Louis (and Louis didn’t even flinch) they don’t talk about it. 

And then they start going on dates. No commitment dates, of course. 

He can’t believe it, really. He had been  _ so  _ sure that Louis would be the one to find someone else first. He had been certain that Louis would back out first. Harry is usually so committed once things like this happen. But, as he’s come to learn, life is unpredictable. 

-

They’re drunk. Louis had invited Harry to spend some time with him in his London home. They hook up and it’s meaningless. Fucking Louis is nothing more than just fucking him. Louis rides him until they both orgasm and that’s all this is - an orgasm. That’s what Harry has really convinced himself. 

Louis stays in bed for the first time after they hook up. Harry sits up immediately. He thinks of studio boy and he tells himself this is it. This is the last time. 

He stumbles as he tries to put his clothes back on. Louis has to help steady him. The feeling of Louis’ hands on him burns through every nerve. 

“Lou.” Harry feels like he could puke. 

His nickname sits there between them. Louis looks like he’s afraid, that’s what Harry notices. 

“Um,” Harry stumbles on thin air. “Maybe we should stop.” 

Louis looks at the bed. He’s still naked, Harry realizes. “Was I good? I have been sort of out of practice with, you know, bottoming. If you - if you want something else, we can talk about it.”

“It’s not that.” Harry already feels himself beginning to sober up. “I, um. I think I found someone that I like.” 

There, it’s out there. Yet it doesn’t feel like the truth. 

Louis’ jaw clenches. It’s quiet for just a beat and then Louis says, “Okay. Well I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” It feels too formal between them. 

Harry holds his breath. He doesn’t even realize that he’s waiting for something until he becomes acutely aware of his hands hanging limp at his sides. 

He looks at Louis hoping to see something,  _ anything  _ there. Louis won’t make eye contact. 

Harry wonders if this is normal - is this how the end of friends with benefits arrangements normally go? Because it currently feels like he can’t breathe through the lump in his throat. His whole body feels heavy, like he’s cemented right there in Louis’ messy room. 

Harry glances around helplessly. He looks at the pile of clothes on the floor right next to the hamper and he smiles. There’s a football in the corner of his room and Harry knows that it was from the last game he played in. All these pieces of Louis and evidence of who is littered in this room and suddenly it feels like he’s the one out of place. 

Harry wants to say something that will take this weight off of him. He looks back at Louis, who is still firmly looking at the ground. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. The pink mushroom that Harry painted for Louis all those years ago - the one that he recognized in his tinder picture. 

And then he’s moving and he can’t stop. 

He leaves Louis’ room, fully aware that Louis isn’t calling after him or trying to stop him. The silence surrounding him is drowning. 

The sound of Louis’ front door clicking closed behind him is deafening. He pauses for just one second and then he swallows and makes his way to the street. 

He orders an Uber but it feels like literal hours that he’s there, on the curb, waiting to get as far away as fucking possible. 

His vision goes a bit wonky, reminding him that he isn’t actually fully sober. He wants to cry, to break down. Because suddenly he’s confronted with everything that he kept locked away for so long. 

His heart  _ aches _ , the pain pulsating through every single beat of his heart. He can’t cry, though, not yet. As he climbs into the Uber and he thinks,  _ not yet _ . He gets out of the car, handing probably three times the cost of the ride to the driver. 

Even now, as his body is struggling to function through the hurt, he makes pleasant conversation with the driver. He listens as she continuously thanks him for the generous tip. He smiles like it hasn’t taken every ounce of his strength to do so. 

He gets out of the car and thinks,  _ not yet _ . The impending break down bumbles just beneath the surface. 

As soon as he closes his door, he collapses against it. Right there in the foyer amongst his Gucci boots and house shoes, it hits him like a brick wall. To say that he sobs would be an understatement. He hiccups, gasps, gags, and barely struggles to breathe through the wave after wave of emotion hitting him. 

He thinks back to all those daydreams about them at their wedding. He’d thought of a gentle tide then. Now he feels as though he’s in the middle of the ocean with no lifeline and he can’t even call for help because the storm he created keeps shoving him under. 

It could be hours, it could be days that he lays there in his foyer just dealing with the waves as they hit. What’s even more dumb is that he can’t even bring himself to talk to studio boy. But honestly, now that he’s here confronting everything, he can admit that he found a guy that looked close enough to Louis that he could trick himself into thinking he had feelings. He probably won’t ever talk to studio boy ever again and he’s kind of a piece of shit for that too, he’s aware. 

Mud is what finally pulls him back into reality. As he’s laying there, he glances over with sore eyes and he sees a spec of mud on his Gucci boots. And that’s how he finds himself detailing all of his shoes with a toothpick. This then leads him to deep cleaning his house like he never has before. It’s meticulous and it’s exactly the kind of thing he can focus on instead of focusing on the gaping wound in his chest. 

That’s how he has to get through this. He’s done this before, gotten over Louis. Or maybe he hasn’t. Maybe he never did. Nevertheless, this is how he learned to breathe through the pain. 

-

They’ve gone back to radio silence. It’s probably pathetic the amount of times that Harry goes back to their messages and types something out, something vulnerable and real, and then he erases it. He’s the one who broke things off. He’s the one who started things. The ball is in Louis’ court now. But the problem is that Harry doesn’t think that there’s any game left to play between them. They’re all played out. After all, Louis said he never wanted a relationship or anything other than sex from Harry so now that they aren’t doing that, there’s nothing left to say. 

Harry sort of draws in on himself after that. His social media accounts go dry. Other than messages and calls from his mom, his phone is dry. 

A month goes by in the blink of an eye. Harry fully immerses himself in working on new music. He sees studio boy a lot. Eventually he apologizes for leading him on and that’s put to rest.

-

Harry sits in his house, listening to the silence until his ears hurt. He sits there, letting his mind keep him company until that becomes too much. What’s happening in his head has become too big, too much. 

So he surrounds himself with bottles. He tries playing sad songs as he drinks, just to really soak it in, what he’s got to do. But after several minutes, he realizes that nothing fully captures what he’s feeling. 

He’s stumbling to his piano, a bottle in one hand and a notebook in the other. He plays around with the keys until he finds something that feels more right than wrong. He hums along and keeps drinking until he’s drunk enough to start writing. 

_ I’m in my bed _

_ You’re not here  _

_ And there’s no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands _

He drinks to that. He feels his eyes start to water and he knows that this is it. He’s finally to the breaking point. He keeps writing. 

_ Forget what I said _

_ It’s not what I meant _

_ And I can’t take it back _

_ I can’t unpack baggage you left _

A tear drops to the page and smears the ink there. He feels like his heart has been ripped wide open and he has no choice but to let it bleed everywhere as it beats. He breathes harshly, barely seeing through the tears as he writes the next words. 

_ What am I now? _

_ What am I now? _

_ What if I’m someone I don’t want around? _

_ I’m falling again  _

_ I’m falling again _

_ I’m falling  _

Harry whispers the words to himself, half trying to stay with a melody that he’s created in his head but the emotions are too strong. 

He feels absolutely defeated and exhausted in every sense. 

_ What if I’m down? _

_ What if I’m out?  _

He thinks of Louis and how he’s just another chapter in his story. Just sentences that make up a paragraph of nothing once the page is turned. He swallows through the panic arising. 

_ What if I’m someone you won’t talk about?  _

_ I’m falling again _

_ I’m falling again _

_ I’m falling  _

He sings through what he has so far, playing with different melodies and meters until something sounds right enough that it makes his heart ache just that much more. 

He takes a drinking break, just looking over the feelings that he has. He hates it. Hates that it’s written down and tangible. It’s proof. Like he won’t be able to talk himself or anyone else out of it - the fact that he is feeling something real and vulnerable. 

He sips on the bottle until he feels like he’s got more to say. He thinks, he feels, he writes. 

_ You said you care  _

_ And you missed me too _

He thinks back over his life and all the things that have led him to this moment. All the rumors, the gossip, the coverups and he’s done. He writes something real.

_ And I’m well aware I write too many songs about you  _

He breathes but just barely. He’s not sure if he’s dizzy from the alcohol or feeling too much at once. But he keeps going. He keeps going until he feels nothing. 

_ The coffee’s out  _

_ At the Beachwood Cafe  _

_ And it kills me cause I know  _

_ We’ve ran out of things we can say _

He takes a gulp out of the bottle and accidentally drops the bottle on his floor. It shatters, sending shards of glass and leftover alcohol scattered across the floor. Harry feels himself really break then, letting out a sob as he looks over just another mess that he’s made. He decides then that he’s already written the chorus, so he writes the words again. 

_ What am I now? _

_ What am I now? _

_ What if I’m someone I don’t want around? _

_ I’m falling again  _

_ I’m falling again _

_ I’m falling  _

_ What if I’m down? _

_ What if I’m out?  _

_ What if I’m someone you won’t talk about? _

_ I’m falling again  _

_ I’m falling again _

_ I’m falling _

He glances at his phone, 2:57 a.m., no messages, no calls. Nothing. He goes to Louis’ contact and he wants to call, wants to hear his voice. And then it hits him. 

_ And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again _

He lets out a sob, knowing that the words he just wrote are the truth. Why would they talk? They have nothing to talk about and nothing left between them. He knows that that line, that’s the one that really looked into the deepest part of him. He writes the chorus one more time, knowing all too well that sometimes things just need an ending.

-

When he gets a knock on his door one Thursday night, Harry instantly panics. He had not been expecting company and only a select few people have his codes to even get into his neighborhood. 

He stalks carefully to the door, images of hoards of fangirls waiting behind his door plaguing his mind. He checks the peephole and he blinks, not sure if his vision is betraying him. 

He opens the door slowly, fully prepared to see that he’s hallucinating. But, there in front of him, Louis stands and the first thing he sees is anger. 

“Can we talk?” His voice gives his anger away even though he’s clearly not trying to show it. 

“Um, yeah.” Harry steps aside to allow Louis in. His heart is beating wildly. “What’s up?”

“You lied.” Two words, quiet yet full of emotion. 

“What do you mean?” 

It’s silent. He’s got this look on his face that Harry can’t even identify which is terrifying. 

“Lou, I - “ 

“Don’t.” He snaps. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Okay.” Harry’s own anger and emotions start rising to the surface. “Wanna tell me why you’ve come to my house to yell at me and call me a liar?”

“Because I needed you to know.” His voice has gone to a whisper. “And I guess I can just go now that I’ve said it.” 

“No.” Harry steps in front of Louis to block him from the doorway. “You don’t get to just do that.” 

“I think I do.”

“What the fuck, Louis? Tell me why you’re really here.”

“Because you lied! You lied about finding someone else. How - why would you do that to me?”

“Why do you even care?” Harry drops the eye contact then. He feels himself start to tremble. 

Louis is silent. When Harry finally gains the confidence to look at him, Louis is staring at his own shoes. For a moment, Harry just watches him. He can see Louis moving his toes in his shoes. 

“Okay, great talk. Good.” Harry intends to let it go. But then, everything bursts out. “You know know why I did it? Because I was  _ dying  _ inside just waiting for you to realize that I had fallen for you again. Or you know, maybe I never stopped loving you. I couldn’t watch you walk away so I had to go first. I was so scared. I was breaking every single time I thought of you and how you didnt want me the way I wanted you. And honestly, I still don’t even understand why you care. You  _ said  _ you didn’t want a relationship. That day when I walked away you didn’t say anything. And here you are now, not saying anything so why the fuck are you even here? You call me a liar but as far as I can see, I’m the only one with enough courage to say the truth.” 

“You aren’t the only scared one, Harry! I am fucking terrified. You’re not the only one waiting. And you’re not the only one who is bad with emotions. From the start, I knew it was a bad idea but I didn't care. Every time that we got together, I could just blatantly see how meant for me you are. But I didn’t want to put that on you if you didn’t want the same thing. And I don't want you to feel compelled to anything just because of that. And Haz, even when I wasn’t saying anything, below the surface I was screaming for you. But, I couldn’t - can’t - I can’t hurt you again. The look on your face when we first broke up, fucking years ago, it still haunts me, Haz. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it for me. And now that all of that is off of my chest, I can go.”

“Lou,” Harry whispers as he steps closer to him, hand on his arm. “Don’t go.”

“Harry,” Louis’ eyes finally meet Harry’s. His eyes are glassy. “I can’t lose you again. I won’t get through it another time.” 

“Then don’t lose me ever again.” He steps even closer to Louis, barely breathing through the tension. 

They’re close to break through. It’s like a rope, pulling apart thread by thread. A tear slips down Louis’ cheek and Harry has to brush it away, keeping his hand there when it’s gone. He doesn’t say anything then, just looks into Harry’s eyes as he swallows thickly.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Harry’s breaths come shallowly. “Please, Lou.”

“I love you.”

Harry licks his lips slowly and glances down at Louis’ lips. When his eyes come back up to Louis’ eyes, he sees that Louis is looking at his lips. So basically, he can’t not kiss him. 

This kiss is different, that is abundantly clear the moment their lips touch. It’s raw and vulnerable. Louis kisses him like everything that he’s ever held back, everything left unsaid is being poured out through his lips, “Please tell me we’re saying the same thing here.” Louis practically begs. 

“Tell me what you want. No walls, no fear.”

“I want you. I love you.” Louis gulps like he’s nervous that after all this that Harry will change his mind. 

“Me too.” Harry smiles wide. 

He has to kiss Louis again then. With the first touch of their lips, it’s like the final thread has broken and the tension, the hurt, and the brokenness just melt away. All that matters is that this is reality. Harry physically cannot stop himself from touching Louis because this is real - this isn’t some dream that he’s having. 

Harry lets his hands roam everywhere, eventually resting at the hem of Louis’ shirt. He only has to tug once before Louis steps back to pull his shirt off. Harry’s fingertips brush over Louis’ skin like a whisper. Harry swallows, thinking how lucky he is. He kisses the Louis’ chest, running his lips over where his heart beats below the surface. 

“H,” Louis whispers. And then he’s pulling Harry’s shirt so that it can be taken off. “Wanna feel your skin against mine.” 

Harry fosses his shirt aside, watching Louis’ face. He can see that Louis’ cheeks have gone a pretty shade of pink. 

He’s so in love. 

His hand intertwines with Louis’ and he pulls him into the dining room, going towards his room. Louis tugs his hand to pull Harry back into him and suddenly they’re kissing heatedly again. 

Louis pushes him until his bum is pressed against the dining room table. He drops to his knees in front of Harry, making quick work of unbuttoning his jeans. 

“Up.” Louis says as soon as Harry has stepped out of his pants. 

Harry fully gets on the table, not thinking about how his arsecheeks are firmly planted on the exact spot where his family eats when they come over. 

Louis firmly grasps the base of his cock, licking from bottom to the head. Harry breathes through his nose, letting all the sensations, all the feelings live. Harry watches Louis’ tongue do circles around his slit, just like he knows drives Harry crazy. He watches the way that Louis’ lips stretch over him, and the way his cheeks hollow.  _ God.  _ It drives Harry up the wall every single time. 

Louis takes Harry all the way down until his lips are touching the little patch of hair Harry has kept perfectly groomed. It feels, god, it feels so good that Harry’s leg starts twitching. He lightly grasps Harry’s balls and it’s positively too much. 

Harry momentarily forgets that he’s not in his bed, and he slams his head back. I

His head bangs painfully against the expensive oak of his table. Instantly Louis pulls off of him and cradles his head. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Harry can’t help but just laugh and as soon as he does, Louis joins in. 

“Always my clumsy boy.” Louis smiles, kissing him. “Let’s get to the bedroom before you give yourself a concussion.”

Harry’s heart soars. He scoots off of the table and lets Louis pull him to the stairs. But his eyes catch on the sweats that Louis is still wearing and he stops him. 

“Wait, get those out of the way,” he emphasizes his statement with a snap of Louis’ waistband. 

Louis looks partially confused but he does it anyway. Once he’s kicked his pants away, he looks at Harry like he’s waiting for something. 

“After you,” Harry says, holding his hand out in the direction of the stairs. 

“You just wanted to see my arse, didn’t you?” Louis scoffs as he walks up the stairs. 

“ _ Certainly _ .” Harry playfully slaps Louis’ bum, watching the way it jiggles as he bites his lip. 

Louis laughs loudly and he’s just that much more in love. 

Once they’re in his room, they instantly reattach by the lips. They melt into each other until Harry can’t tell where he ends and Louis begins. 

They fall to the bed, Louis underneath him. He feels how hard Louis is so he jerks him off slowly, just to hear the hitch in his breathing. 

“Tell me,” Harry asks between kisses, “what you want.”

“You.” Louis whispers it against his lips. 

He tastes like cigarettes and mint. And it’s everything that Harry could ever want. 

Louis spreads his legs so that Harry is better situated between them and he understands exactly what Louis wants. 

His hand leaves Louis’ cock and travels down lower. He knows that his fingers are dry and no real penetration is going to happen without lube. But he can’t help but brush the tip of his middle finger over Louis’ hole. He gasps just like Harry knew he would. 

“Harry,” Louis sighs. 

“I know, I’ll get the lube.”

“That’s not it,” the way Louis says it strikes a bit of fear inside Harry. 

Harry swallows through it, waiting for Louis to explain.

“I just feel really vulnerable.” He whispers, looking to the side which highlights his deepening blush. 

“It’s okay.” Harry comes down to him and presses their chests together, letting him feel their skin together. “Me too. It’s okay. If you want to stop, we can.”

“No.” His voice is laced with determination. “I just feel...naked but like, not just physically if that makes sense and it’s scary.”

“It makes sense.” Harry kisses him. “I’m right here with you, naked too. It’s scary but it’s me and you. It’s just us.”

“You’re right.” Louis breathes slowly and kisses Harry deeply. “Just us.”

They pause like that, just kissing and being near each other, for a few more moments. There’s no rush. Eventually, though, Louis pulls back enough to tell Harry to grab the lube. 

He will never get enough of the sight of Louis spread out in front of him. His fingers are slick with lube when he touches Louis’ rim again. He circles there, lightly enough that he feels goosebumps wash over Louis’ skin from where his hand is resting on his thigh. 

Louis gasps quietly when Harry finally pushes his middle finger past the rim. Louis takes it so well, always has. It’s always incredible watching him like this, watching him fall apart on Harry’s fingers. 

He keeps the rhythm nice and slow, letting Louis fully adjust so that he can completely enjoy this. He can always tell when Louis is ready for more because his hole will start pulsating around him, like his body is physically yearning for more. 

Harry adds a little more lube to his index finger and lets his two fingers slide inside Louis.

“Ahh,” Louis breathes deeply. 

Harry, once again, keeps the rhythm slow until he’s sure that Louis is ready for more. When his fingers curl, he hits his prostate dead on. Louis’ whole body twitches and he lets out this beautiful sound that goes straight to Harry’s cock. Harry doubles his efforts then, making sure to hit his prostate with every thrust of his fingers. 

Louis’ legs fall farther open and his hips start jolting.

Harry adds another finger and usually it takes Louis longer to adjust to the last finger, but this time, he just moans through it and keeps rocking his hips. It goes straight to Harry’s heart, honestly, because it shows him that Louis is really relaxed and really ready. 

He pulls his fingers away soon after and focuses on making sure his cock is lubed enough. He wipes his fingers on his duvet and leans down so that he is fully in Louis’ space. His lips attach to Louis’ neck, sucking harshly enough to leave a mark but gently enough to not cause too much of a mark. He pushes inside Louis then, feeling the moan that Louis lets out from where his lips are still attached to his neck. 

Once he’s fully inside Louis, he pulls back enough to look at his face. Louis’ got this look on his face that he hasn’t seen there in a long, long time. Since the X-Factor days maybe. Harry recognizes it as unguarded love. 

He feels Louis’ nails press into his biceps. He pulls back and thrusts back in, still fervently watching Louis’ face. He starts with a rhythm that is slow and deep, just so he can watch the way that Louis’ face scrunches up with pleasure and the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 

He feels so much, watching Louis drives him so close to the edge that eventually he has to look away. He pulls Louis’ knees to his chest to get a better angle and Louis cries out, scratching his back in a way that makes him shutter. He keeps that up until he needs to be closer. 

He puts Louis’ legs on his shoulders and leans fully against him, knowing that Louis is flexible enough that it won’t hurt him. He kisses Louis as deeply as he can while keeping his thrusts up. Louis bites at his bottom lip and it causes Harry’s hips to snap in a way that Louis can’t get enough of. 

Louis starts whimpering and moaning brokenly, which tells Harry that he’s found his prostate again. He keeps that exact angle and thrusts harder.

“Fu-uck,” Louis’ eyes roll in the back of his head, getting even louder. 

Harry’s been on edge for what feels like forever and watching Louis fall apart on his cock is taking him even closer. 

He grips Louis’ cock as best as he can in their current position, kissing the moans from Louis’ lips. He feels how uneven his breaths are and he knows that Louis is close. He doubles his efforts, knowing that he’s not coordinated enough to keep both rhythms perfectly but its enough to have Louis tensing up and painting their stomachs with come while he lets out the prettiest sound that Harry has ever heard. 

It only takes a couple more thrusts of Louis pulsating tightly around him before his orgasm hits him so hard that he collapses against Louis. 

Eventually he goes to the en suite to get something to clean both of them up and then he’s back to being right there in Louis’ space. 

They’re laying there in the afterglow, Harry feeling like he can really breathe for the first time in a long time. Now that he’s allowing himself to feel everything, it’s almost like sensory overload. He’s memorizing it all though, from the way his sheets feel against his skin to the way that Louis can’t stop staring at him. 

“I’m sorry.” Louis whispers to him. 

“For?” Harry turns on his side so that they’re facing each other. 

“For not acting like an adult about this whole thing. Could’ve gone much smoother if I had just been honest.”

“I could’ve been honest too. It wasn’t just all on you. This is a two way street.” 

“God, we’re just a bunch of damaged idiots huh?” Louis laughs and his eyes crinkle. 

“We are.” Harry sighs, feeling his heart flutter just watching Louis. 

It’s silent for a couple minutes, both of them just soaking in the moment. Eventually, they end up with Harry’s head on Louis’ chest. He sighs, completely content to fall asleep to the rhythm of Louis’ heartbeat. 

“I love you.” Harry says. He’s trying this new thing where he talks about his feelings. 

“I love you.” Louis’ heart beats faster when he says it which makes Harry hold him closer. 

“So.” Harry lifts his head so he can look at Louis fully. “What happens now?”

“Our forever begins.”


End file.
